


A Secret Agent's Guide to Being A Housewife

by Softiekitten



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Forced Feminization, Kidnapping, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29443008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Softiekitten/pseuds/Softiekitten
Summary: After the untimely death of his partner, Jack Krauser, Leon S. Kennedy isn't sure how to cope. A week later, he wakes up bound on an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar place, wearing an unfamiliar wedding gown. Can he escape his captor, or will he lose himself in a shared delusion?This is a passion project that is fueled solely by my desire to see more metaltango breeding kink/1950's housewife Leon :( ♡
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Jack Krauser
Comments: 10
Kudos: 29





	A Secret Agent's Guide to Being A Housewife

**Author's Note:**

> The tags will be regularly updated with each chapter as to not spoil what happens, so please please PLEASE make sure to re-read them with each new update. I'll make sure to add warnings to each chapter's beginning just to make sure. I will say right now that this fic will deal with themes of non-con, transmasc pregnancy, Stockholm syndrome, and just generally fucked up things. Please stay safe and I hope you enjoy this fic :D  
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> I also want to thank my best friend [ Locusdesperatus ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/locusdesperatus/pseuds/locusdesperatus) who has helped beta read my chapters and cheered me on through all of this. I wouldn't have been able to make this without his help :')♡♡♡

This was not the first time Leon had woken up with a throbbing migraine in the past week. Blood pounded in his ears as the hangover started- a small side effect that came with his new found habit of heavy drinking was becoming commonplace. The aching muscles that began to register in his wakening mind weren't too rare either. A warm shower and a hot cup of coffee mixed with too much creamer always helped. Leon groaned as he went to stretch- but was met with the resistance of tight scratchy ropes.

That certainly woke him up.

He opened his eyes to a bare wooden ceiling, the twists and spirals in the grain staring right back at him. Flashes of wooden huts in a humid jungle flooded his memory until he realized the state of his body. He was wearing a white _wedding dress_. Itchy, intricate, flowery lace covered his arms and laid just below his collarbone. The hem lines on the satin torso were clearly meant to accentuate breasts- ones that Leon no longer had. The high-low skirt was as equally lacy and barely covered his pubic area. His legs were covered in white thigh highs, ankles bound to the end posts.

Leon's breathing picked up as he tugged at the restraints. The wiry rope scratched at his wrists and ankles as he struggled. They were too tight, they were digging into his skin and the friction only caused the areas to burn and bruise. He could feel a panic attack coming on as his mind quickly registered he was unable to get free. Letting his anxiety get the best of him would do nothing but harm. He stared back at the wooden ceiling, following the lines of the grain as he forced his breathing to calm. He needed to refocus.

_What was the last thing he remembered?_

He had come back to his apartment late at night after a meeting that had seemingly droned on and on. He wasn't even sure what they had discussed— he'd been having trouble concentrating lately. He had kicked off his shoes, and ate the Chinese takeout he had grabbed on his way home. He used the chopsticks it had come with despite his terrible skill with them. All of his dishes were dirty and he wasn't about to start cleaning them now. He had his nightly drink once he was done, and quickly passed out on his bed, still in his work clothes.

_Did he ever lock the door…?_

...Whether he did or not didn't matter anymore. He was here now- wherever _here_ was. Since he couldn't loosen his bindings, the next best thing was to take in his surroundings. The room was quaint, decorated with charming old wallpaper he might've seen in his grandmother's house. There was a window behind the bed and on the left wall, sunlight filtered through wooden blinds. Any other time and Leon would have considered the atmosphere the room gave off to be nice and cozy.

Well, "cozy" was stretching it a bit. There wasn't much space in the room for many things to fit. Besides the king sized bed Leon was on, there were two wooden handmade bedside tables- with matching lamps- on each side of the bed. On the wall facing the bed were two clothing racks on each side of the room's only door (also wooden, what a surprise). Looking closer, Leon noticed the left rack had floral and pastel dresses straight out of a 1950s fashion magazine. The other rack was the complete opposite, masculine and military with an army uniform hanging in a clear clothes bag.

One of the shirts among them caught his eye. It was a USSOCOM logo t-shirt- an oldie, from before Leon had joined. Then, a USSOCOM logo shirt from the year he had joined. Leon had never worn his, it had felt disgusting to wear a shirt with the logo of an army he was forced into joining. He used to wear Krauser's though… it was big enough to drape over his shoulder and smelt like the older blond. The shirt that was hung up…

even had the same tear in the sleeve…

where Leon had nicked Krauser while they were training.

Looking closer, _all_ of the shirts on the right clothing rack looked like ones he had folded up for Krauser once upon a time. _All of them_. All the permanent bleach stains from when Leon was still learning to get blood out of their clothes to the wear and tear the armpit seams had due to Krauser's massive shoulders.

Leon's breathing picked up once more.

Krauser was reported dead in a helicopter crash a week ago. Leon had seen the report, seen the pictures of the charred black bodies. Seen the picture of dog tags hanging around a burned and melted neck. Leon had _told_ Krauser not to go back into the field while his arm was still- _and yet-_

... _Krauser was dead._

Leon had drunk himself into a stupor every night since. No one had known of their closeness, let alone their full-blown relationship (not that Krauser had ever admitted it as such). They were talking about getting an apartment together since Krauser came over so often. They spent every possible moment together when they could, cuddling, fucking, just being in each other's company. All of what little they had in the first place was gone in an instant that day. He had to suffer and grieve in silence, like he always had.

Krauser was dead.

Dead,

dead,

_dead._

The clicking of a lock snapped Leon from his thoughts. He watched with bated breath as the handle turned. Watched as the door slowly creaked open. Watched as a man came through with the same slicked back blond hair, the same massive musculature, the same god damn sharp face- littered in new cuts.

Krauser smirked, the left of his mouth did not follow.

"Miss me, comrade?"

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this before the cut-off point I had set for myself, so future chapters may not come out as quickly as I'd hope. I just couldn't miss out the chance to post this fic on the perfect day for wuv :'3  
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> Check me out on twitter where I post nsfw drawings/general horny posting: [ Softiekitten_ ](https://twitter.com/softiekitten_?s=09)


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